


it takes a dedicated hand

by platonics



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Breaking Out Of Prison, Highway Rest Stop, Introspection, Light Angst, Moral Ambiguity, Nonbinary Shinguji Korekiyo, On the Run, Other, Pining, Post-Canon, Road Trips, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Travel, Unresolved Emotional Tension, shuichi's also there but just mentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:54:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25856221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platonics/pseuds/platonics
Summary: It had been eight months since she last saw them. It might as well have been eight years.Four survivors stepped out of the wreckage. Losing anyone else now would be unforgivable.
Relationships: Harukawa Maki & Yumeno Himiko, Shinguji Korekiyo/Yumeno Himiko
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15





	it takes a dedicated hand

**Author's Note:**

> post-game, canon divergence where kiyo lived to the end
> 
> i rly need to learn to post at better hours lmao

"You're an idiot," Maki said. Himiko, staring at the ground, watched her shadow shake its head on the pavement. Abrupt though it was, her pronouncement was true. It wasn't even particularly unkind by Maki's standards. Himiko lacked both the motivation and the desire to summon up a complaint. She just shrugged, scuffing the toe of her sneaker against the ground and sending a few pebbles skittering away.

"Maybe," she agreed. "I'm sorry." She felt so small like this — sitting on the curb at a shitty highway rest area, staring out at the trees as dusk slowly turned to full darkness. The vicinity was dully illuminated by the lights bordering the parking lot and public restrooms, moon and stars doing little to add to it. Maki was standing beside her, arms crossed and car keys dangling from her fingers as she just...looked at her. Not angry or threatening, just neutral observation, as if this was the first time she'd ever truly seen her.

"No, you're not sorry. And I'm not asking you to be, so stop looking like a kicked puppy." She gave an exasperated huff, and somehow that was enough to coax a chuckle from Himiko's throat. They'd made it through worse situations together — them and Shuichi, who was waiting at home for them to return. Working together, no odds were insurmountable. She stopped just short of laughing again, a smirk tugging at her lips. _The impossible is possible,_ she thought to herself. _Isn't that right, Kaito?_

Himiko was never that close to Kaito, but she figured he'd probably object to his catchphrase being used in this particular instance. It wasn't a very heroic mission. Shaking off those thoughts, she peered up at Maki, one hand brushing her bangs out of her face. Even in the poor light, she could make out the dark circles under her eyes. She'd been driving for much of the day, and the time spent out of the car was even more stressful. It was at times like this that Himiko sort of wished she learned how to drive herself, so she could share the burden.

"Thanks, Harumaki," she said eventually, dragging herself to her feet. Maybe the best way of expressing her gratitude was also the simplest. "I'll, uh, buy some snacks while you stretch your legs, yeah?" There was no rush to get going again. There were only a few other cars in the lot; the odds of anyone taking note of them were low. Getting home before dark stopped being a possibility all the way back in that traffic jam in Chiba, so that wasn't a reason to hurry either.

"Yeah." Maki gave her a businesslike nod in response. "Grab me a coffee too, would you?" Once Himiko murmured her assent, Maki wandered off toward the grassy area nearby. Just for the sake of walking around a bit, but probably also to look up at the stars alone. Himiko looked away from her retreating back, leaving her to it. She had her own task to complete, stiff limbs protesting as she ambled over to the row of vending machines.

There was a small convenience store at the rest area too, but it appeared to be closed, and she wouldn't have risked going in even if it was open. Better not to be seen, just in case. This would do just fine, she thought, glancing over the options. Home was just a couple of hours away. After double checking that she had enough money, she started jabbing buttons. For the sake of ease, she got three onigiri, the same for everyone. A couple bottles of water, a canned coffee for Maki — then, as a second thought after being interrupted by a yawn, one for herself too.

Himiko set off in the direction of the car at a quick pace, hoping to make it back before she could drop anything. One arm desperately trying to keep the drinks trapped against her chest, she shifted the stack of onigiri enough to free up a hand to open the passenger-side door. Correction — to _try_ to open the door. It was locked, and Maki had the keys.

"Can you unlock the door?" she asked, voice lapsing into a tone she'd absolutely deny was whiny. Free hand knocking on the window to punctuate her request, she only had to stand there for a few seconds until hearing the soft click she'd been waiting for. Relief. She could finally open the door and put everything down. Coffees in the cupholders, onigiri on the center console, and then she could hold out one of the water bottles in the direction of the backseat. A spidery hand took it from her, fingers so much colder than the summer night warranted.

"Thank you," a quiet voice said, still rough with disuse.

"No problem." She handed over one of the onigiri as well, only then looking back at its recipient. The tension still hadn't dissipated, and there'd been plenty of time for it — Chiba Prison was already four hours behind them. The trip back to the small city she, Maki, and Shuichi had settled in would be much shorter by train, but that hadn't been an option. Bribes and celebrity influence could only do so much, even in a world that seemed to be disintegrating more and more by the day. Not even two Danganronpa survivors could take an escaped convict out of the city in plain sight.

She watched as Korekiyo slowly dragged themself into a sitting position from where they'd been sprawled across the entire backseat. A few loose tendrils of greasy hair framed their face, escapees from the bun the rest of it was tied up in. She wondered what kind of strings Team Danganronpa pulled to let them keep it long. Over the standard-issue prison jumpsuit, they wore one of Shuichi's hoodies, a soft blue one that looked too small and too big on them all at once.

It had been eight months since she last saw them. It might as well have been eight years.

She cracked open her can of coffee, taking a slow sip of it. She cast her gaze down to the screen of her phone, checking the latest news. Nothing about what they'd done. Not a single word about a convicted murderer on the loose. For all she knew, there wouldn't be. Maybe it would all just get covered up.

As far as Himiko was concerned, the whole thing was stupid to begin with. Televised killing games were legal, but what happened on them wasn't. Normally it wasn't a problem. Each blackened was executed — dead, gone. Only Tenko had killed Angie before Korekiyo stomped on that seesaw, so they weren't the blackened. Nor were they caught in the crossfire of either of the murders that followed. They were alive. So when the four survivors were released from the hospital, Himiko, Shuichi, and Maki were free. Korekiyo was not.

Ten years for the murder of Chabashira Tenko. It was funny. She hadn't been able to stop laughing when she first heard it. The world approved of Danganronpa, cheered on the murders and executions. Why suddenly start pretending it wasn't encouraged to kill on TV?

Shuichi and Maki had none of the complicated fondness for Kiyo that she did, but they agreed with her on that much. There was no benefit to dragging out the trauma. And as it turned out, even prison guards wavered under the glare of the former Ultimate Assassin. Especially when it was paired with a hefty sum of money.

Setting her phone down again, she bit her lip, staring down into her coffee. It was painful to look at Korekiyo and see how lifeless they'd become.

"You came back for me," they said. 

Himiko nodded slowly, watching out of the corner of her eye, following their every movement. They sipped their water, nibbled the edge of their onigiri. They moved heavily and half-heartedly. Slow motion. A miasma of exhaustion radiated from them, the kind of bone-deep tired that only lots of time could fix.

"Yeah. Didn't plan on it at first," she admitted. "That's why it took so long." She bit back the 'sorry' threatening to slip past her lips, every letter of it a betrayal. There was nothing to apologize to them for, one part of her argued. Doing this at all was far more than most people would do for a (mostly) unrepentant killer.

"It was your idea?"

She snorted quietly, glancing out the car window. She couldn't spot Maki at all from this distance, but she wasn't really trying to. It was more of a gesture for Korekiyo's benefit, indicating how ridiculous she thought their question was.

"Who else do you think would do it? It's lucky Maki agreed to help."

"Yes, I think rotting in prison would be preferable to risking my life with you behind the wheel," they said primly, sounding like their old self for a moment. Even the tiny smile playing at their lips was familiar, the minute kind of expression change that would normally be invisible behind their mask. Himiko saw the very moment they noticed her looking, an inscrutable expression flashing in their eyes. They lifted a hand to cover their mouth, turning their head away.

"Hey!" she protested. "I'm sure I wouldn't be _that_ bad if I really had to drive. I wouldn't kill you."

"You're sure?" They were tugging at the cuff of their hoodie sleeve. It was too short to pull over their hand, bare of bandages.

"...Maybe." Himiko pouted a little, mostly for effect. "Probably. I wouldn't kill you _on purpose_ , at least."

"Oh, how very reassuring of you."

"Great, right?" She reached in, gently smoothing some messy hair out of their face. Nose crinkling in distaste, they gently batted her hand away. At first, she assumed they objected to the fact that she was touching them, but then they spoke up.

"Don't. I haven't gotten to wash my hair properly in almost a week." Ah. They were embarrassed about her feeling how greasy it had gotten, the polar opposite of the impeccable state they always kept it in during the killing game. Curling into the corner farthest from her, they went back to eating, staring sullenly at the floor.

"It's okay. You can when we get home."

"Home..." This time, Korekiyo's voice was accompanied by the sound of crinkling plastic, empty wrapper being wadded up in their hand. "You all...really intend to let me stay with you?"

"Well, yeah. What, did you think we busted you out of prison just to...toss you out on the street?"

Their silence spoke volumes. All her abdominal organs wadded together in one massive knot. She fiddled with the pull tab of her coffee can, fingernails scraping against the metal.

"Kiyo..."

"Forgive me. I did not wish to be presumptuous." A moment later, they added, "Though I suppose my behavior now is presumptuous in a way too. I didn't mean to imply you'd be cruel."

"No, it's okay. I wasn't mad or anything. I just..." She sighed, offering a weak shrug. "Feel bad, I guess. That you've been alone for so long."

"It's my own fault, yes?" When they said that, her immediate impulse was to say no, to protest the very idea of it.

"Doesn't matter whose fault it is," she said instead. That felt more honest, more like something they'd believe. She stretched her arm back toward them, hand hanging limply until they took it, touch cold and so, so hesitant.

When Maki opened the door a few minutes later, the light came on. Kiyo's hand was still clasped in her own, and it was even more obvious now that they'd gone from thin to downright skeletal. Their hand was all bones and tendons standing out, sharp edges. Shadows pooled over the jut of their collarbone, far too prominent.

"Are we ready to go?" Maki asked, shattering the moment. She hardly spared either of them a glance, but she tossed something onto Himiko's lap. It was a mask, she realized. Probably purchased from one of the vending machines here. It hadn't even occurred to her to look for one. She passed it back to Korekiyo and their eyes widened, looking from her to the back of Maki's head, then back to her. They let go of her hand to put it on, and immediately looked a little more at ease.

Himiko offered them a small, secret smile, then turned away to face forward.

"Yeah. Let's go home."

**Author's Note:**

> posting might be a little spottier than usual for the next couple of months bc i gotta get stuff prepared for himikiyo week hshshsh
> 
> pls consider participating in it if u read my stuff 👉👈 it's in december and u can find info on my tumblr


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